


american dream

by cumpeachx



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: High School AU, M/M, Prepschool AU, Recreational Drugs, bratty!timmy, ice cream shop armie, masturbation references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-11-18 03:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18111938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumpeachx/pseuds/cumpeachx
Summary: timmy is a spoiled rich kid that isn't used to being told 'no.'armie, who works at an ice cream parlor, is the studious new kid that timmy is determined to get his hands on - at all costs.also there is a haunted house.





	1. I can’t believe I’m about to fall in love at an ice cream parlor.

**Author's Note:**

> hello.  
> i never know what to say in these things?  
> this is all fiction, clearly.  
> armie is 18. timmy is 17.  
> it's roughly around october.

SR: timothee hal chalamet, where the hell are you? 

TC: i needed pancakes 

SR: so you ditched the entire day for pancakes? ur a nightmare 

TC: and proud

SR: well i guess it doesn’t matter that there’s a new transfer student…. 

TC: what’s your point, sersh? 

SR:the point is hes FUCKING HOT 

Timmy hadn’t meant to skip basically the entire school day but he’d had a craving for pancakes at 8AM and he was a firm believer in self indulgence. So pancakes at the twenty-four hour diner a block away from campus had eventually turned into food coma, which turned into getting high at a friend’s house, which then turned into a marathon of French films…

Now it was near 1PM on Monday and he was splayed out over a dark green sofa, dangling a cigarette from his bottom lip as he furiously texted Saoirse for more information about the new kid. What did he look like? Where was he from? Did he radiate BDE? This was all very pertinent information and very important.

SR: tea, just get your ass to school.  
SR: if not for an education then at least to check this guys ass out 

TC: you really shouldn’t sexualize men like they’re a piece of meat, sersh  
TC: lol jk im omw 

-

Timmy barely made it on time to his final class of the day. There wasn’t much he’d hustle down the hallways for but a hot new transfer student? He could risk a little brow sweat for that. He just hoped it was worth it. In his opinion, Saoirse didn’t have the best taste in men, which he rudely blamed once on the fact she was a lesbian. She had responded by punching him in the neck.

“Fucking finally,” Saoirse leaned over the desk, her legs crossed under her ass as she waved him over.Timmy was out of breath as he flopped into his usual seat directly across from the blonde. He struggled to adjust his tie that was never on properly because he hated the school uniforms.

“Sorry, I’m still a little high and I really needed some sour skittles.” Timmy scanned the room, squinting his eyes with focus. “Now where is this guy?”

Saoirse looked over towards the door as the last few students trickled in. She shrugged a shoulder. “I thought he was supposed to be here…”

The door pushed open and every single head in the class turned at once. All the chatter and movement came to an abrupt halt. 

Timmy thought about all the rom-coms he’d seen where suddenly everything would move in slow motion and cheesy, erotic songs with lyrics like “ooohhhh yeaahhh” played in the background. He had always thought it was fucking ridiculous and campy but holy shit, he’d be damned if it all didn’t make sense now. This guy was literally the hottest person he’d ever seen in his entire life. Not just _hot_ but _beautiful_ and Timmy did not use that word lightly. Clearly, he wasn’t alone in this sentiment because everyone was entranced, even Saoirse who was leaning further over her desk to get a closer look.

The guy, who _had to be_ well over six feet tall (Timmy would need to happily climb his way to the top to get his exact measurements at a later time) made his way to the teacher, handed over a slip as they started to whisper quietly to one another.

Then something happened that made Timmy nearly fall out of his seat.

The guy _smiled._

Timmy could have fainted from the perfection of his mouth and teeth, which were nearly blinding to look at, but he couldn’t look away (no one could) and fainting would only mean missing out and he was not going to miss out on this. No fucking way.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Timmy muttered under his breath, his mouth hanging open. He turned his chin towards Saoirse but kept his eyes transfixed on the actual hottest person alive standing at the front of the classroom.

“I’m going to fuck him.” Timmy sat up straight, nodded his head as if it was a matter of fact. Nothing to debate. It was going to happen. He looked smug as fuck about it because he knew it would happen.

Saoirse snorted. “Try your best, Tea. Looks like everyone is figuring out how to do exactly the same thing.” Timmy rolled his eyes, glaring with jealousy at every single person in the room who were all staring at the beautiful blonde specimen. How dare they.

The teacher started talking but Timmy wasn’t listening, couldn’t even comprehend a word he was saying. He had surrendered to the fact that he wasn’t going to pay attention in class today, or probably ever now that the New Guy was here and so he didn’t realize the teacher was introducing the new guy. The New Guy was on his way to an empty desk that was tortuously far from where he sat, but Timmy immediately started a game of telephone with the three students that separated him and his future husband in a desperate attempt to trade desks.

“Come on, don’t be a dick. Trade seats with me.”  
“Tell Sarah she’s a fucking bitch.”  
“I’ll give you some weed, just switch with me.”  
“You all suck.”

Timmy rolled his eyes, again. He huffed as he fell back into his seat in defeat, crossed his arms over his chest. Saoirse was in a fit of giggles over the dramatics. He flipped her off.

“Whatever. I’ll just find him after class, no big deal.”

Saoirse continued to laugh.

The teacher heard the chatter and yelled in Timmy’s direction, “Français, Timothee! On parle français!”

Timmy grinned and sat up straight. He looked at the kid next to him with an arrogant smile on his face. “Vous êtes le pire.”

The teacher sighed, completely indifferent because Timmy being a smartass wasn’t anything new. Timmy leaned back proudly in his chair, looking all too pleased with himself. He glanced at the new guy who looked confused and offended, shaking his head with disdain.

“See me after the lesson, Mr. Chalamet.”

Timmy frowned and Saoirse leaned in close to his ear. “So, what was that again about finding the new kid after class?”

Timmy groaned, flopping his head down on his desk with a loud sigh.

-

“You’re here early,” Saoirse crunched as she bit into an apple, smiling as she smacked her lips then wiped away the splatter of juices with the back of her hand. Timmy was never early for school, ever. He didn’t know why anyone bothered, it was annoying and weird that anyone would choose to be here at this time. 

Also, why didn’t everyone just eat at home like normal humans? Instead students were filing past with bagels, muffins, and cups of coffee. One kid was even eating a legitimate bowl of cereal across the way. What the fuck?

“Don’t remind me,” Timmy whined, his voice raw, still sleepy. The faint pink that usually lined his green eyes seemed more prominent, his curls a little more wild than normal. He was not a morning person.

“I’m guessing you’re on the prowl?” Saoirse threw her apple core into a bush nearby. “Biodegradable, good for the soil,” she beamed when Timmy gave her a funny look. He shrugged, went back to watching the students migrate to and fro. No sign of the New Guy. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person either? Timmy sighed dramatically, his head lolling from side to side in distress.

“You said his name is Armie, right?” he asked as if he hadn’t repeated the new guy’s name a hundred times in bed last night. Most of which had been when his hand was wrapped around his cock, his eyes squeezed shut as he imagined that toothy, perfect smile, those broad shoulders, those heart stopping blue eyes, fist pumping wildly over his peach scented lotion lathered cock, until he came all over his belly.

“Armie Hammer,” Saoirse growled. Timmy audibly gurgled with delight. What a fucking name, and with that face? Fuckable. Utterly fuckable.

Timmy was desperate and determined. A dangerous combo according to Saoirse. He’d meet the New Guy today if it was the last thing he did.

-

But apparently, this guy was impossible to track down.

What made it worse for Timmy was that Armie was a senior (Timmy was suddenly furious his parents hadn’t fucked a year earlier), they each had opposite lunch schedules, and honestly, it was probably a mistake that they even had French together.

Timmy was distraught by the end of the day.

Saoirse made grabby hands at Timmy’s tie while listening to him drone on about how unfair life  
was. Without question, he undid his tie and handed it over. The girl’s uniform didn’t require a tie but Saoirse was a fan of the deep green color and had been stealing his for years now. Eventually the teachers had stopped marking her down for it after a rather enthusiastic speech from the blonde, megaphone included, on top of a table in the cafeteria last year.

“I heard he was top of his class at his old school. Most of his classes are college prep,” Saoirse explained as she expertly wrapped his tie around her collar. Timmy loved her for her patience, her support of his wild antics, and the fact that she had spent all night texting anyone she could to get information on Armie just for him. Timmy would have done it himself but his hands were otherwise occupied. 

Timmy sighed so loud a few people turned their heads. He waved them off, letting his head collapse against Saoirse’s shoulder. She kissed his crown of curls as they meandered down the hallway and shared a bag of doritos.

“Of course. He _would_ be that gorgeous _and_ smart, wouldn’t he? Fuck my life.” Timmy’s conquests were usually one or the other but a double threat like Armie? He was going to have to make a helluva first impression - if he ever got the fucking opportunity.

-

 

Saoirse popped the cherry sucker out of her mouth and handed it over to Timmy, who was laying against her lap while they lounged on his bedroom floor. He took the cherry orb into his pouty lips, sucking on it lazily. She patted his head gingerly with one hand while the other scrolled through Instagram on her neon orange iphone.

“Don’t worry, Tea, you’ll meet him eventually.”

Somehow the entire day had gone by and Timmy hadn’t been able snag Armie yet. Even French class had even been a bust. Armie had jetted from class so fast that Timmy didn’t ever stand a chance.

Needless to say, he was morose and irritable. Was it possible to have blue balls from something like this?

Timmy shrugged. “I’m obviously going to have to suck a dick to get over this.”

“Wow, disgusting. You can have the lollipop.”

They both laughed, Timmy smiled wide with the stick of the candy peeking through his teeth.

“I’m serious! I’m so lonely and all i want is to hear Armie say my name so that I can imagine what it’ll sound like when he inevitably lets me suck his dick,” Timmy sighed with pure delight as he imagined the scenario. “For now I’ll have to settle for mediocre dick until I get what I want,” he huffed, biting down on the lollipop out of frustration.

“First, we don’t settle. Second, fucking chill.” Saoirse was holding up her fingers, looking at him firmly. “Third, haven’t you already sucked all the worthy dicks at school?”  
Timmy chomped down the rest of the lollipop while giving her a death stare. She clicked her tongue, about to list a 'fourth', but suddenly sat up and Timmy nearly choked on the broken bits of candy in his mouth.

“What the fuck, Sersh -” he sputtered but she slapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“There's been a sighting! Apparently he works at that ice cream parlor on 43rd and he’s there right now.” Saoirse went back to her phone where she was sending a flurry of texts and emojis of gratitude to whoever shared this vital piece of intel with her.

“Are you serious? The ice cream parlor,” Timmy’s jaw hung open. He practically floated from the floor, already bouncing on his feet, running to his closet to change his clothes. “The one with the with the ridiculous pink uniforms?” Timmy was so fucking excited he was practically screeching.  
“I can't believe this. I can’t believe I’m about to fall in love at an ice cream parlor.” He was definitely screeching now. “It's like a cute Netflix original movie or something!”

Saoirse snorted. “More like a shitty porno if you ask me.”


	2. my favorite color is pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! short chapter - sorry!  
> more updates soon xoxo  
> all fiction n stuff.

It took Timmy nearly forty-five minutes to decide what to wear. He warned Saorise that she was going to lose her eyeballs if she kept rolling them so hard after every outfit he tried on but she just flipped him off and continued to watch him dress and undress from his bed. Eventually he picked his favorite lavender shirt, sheer and soft, and it made him feel cute but Saorise promptly reminded him that it was pointless because he’d be bundled up in a coat anyway because of the rain. 

“It’s pointless as fuck what color your shirt is, Timmy,” she sighed as she crunched on a box of animal crackers.

“You’re literally the worst best friend _ever,_ ” Timmy whined as he pulled the shirt over his head. He did a quick spin on his heels, shifting his hips from side to side to pose for Saorise and she grinned wide.

“Cute as fuck,” she laughed.

“That’s what I thought.”

-

“I’m going to get bubblegum ice cream,” Saoirse sang as they walked arm in arm down the sidewalk. It was the first week of October, it was windy as hell, and Timmy was stressed about his hair. His curls were going to be a mess, he just knew it.

“Bubblegum? Who actually eats bubblegum ice cream, other than like, I don’t know, eight year olds?” Timmy hated the little chalky bits of gum in the bright pink ice cream.

“Excuse me - you’re the one that gets birthday cake flavor. That’s like, disgusting on a whole other level.” She shoved a finger into her mouth, pretending to gag.

“Oh my god, you’re right. I need to pick out a sophisticated flavor. I don’t need Armie to know my deepest darkest secrets.”

“You mean like how you’re an actual child that likes birthday cake flavored ice cream, eats Lucky Charms for breakfast and drinks chocolate milk through a bendy straw?” She beamed and Timmy looked horrified. They spent the next three blocks deciding which ice cream flavor would make Armie want to suck his dick. You know, sophisticatedly.

-

Timmy stared through the glass windows of the ice cream parlor like a child looking into a shop full of puppies. Pure awe and amazement (and a little nausea because _holyshitheissocute_ , _howishesocute_ , and _ughiwanttobiteeveryinchofhim_ ). Timmy was certain he had actual heart eyes looking at Armie through the window. How the hell was it possible for anyone to look that good, in _that_ outfit? Jesus fucking christ. Armie was like a peppermint candy cane in all those stripes and pastel pink.

“Can I just lick him instead of ice cream?” he sighed, staring longingly through the glass as Armie handed a chocolate cone to a very excited toddler. Saoirse tugged him towards the door, the bell chiming sharply when they entered. 

“We’ll never know if you don’t ask. Consent is very sexy.”

The shop wasn’t very busy, considering the rain and the fact it was a Tuesday, but unfortunately Armie was focused on another customer so they were instead greeted by a tall, slender brunette with a name tag that read _Liz_. Timmy smiled warmly at her, like always whenever he saw a pretty face.

“Hey! What can I get for you two?”

Even her voice was pretty. Saoirse gave him a look, communicating a very obvious statement that Timmy understood immediately. Now they would both have valid reasons to get ice cream every day of the week.

-

Sam Cooke’s _You Send Me_ played quietly in the background and Timmy couldn’t believe his luck. If movies were real-life them he was definitely starring in a Netflix original, because this was too perfect, how could it get any better? 

Armie was moving in slow motion, walking down the length of the counter, pushing back some of his floppy blonde hair, a warm half smile, making his smooth face crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Timmy audibly sighed. Saoirse, who was talking a mile a minute to the wide-eyed pretty brunette, nudged him towards Armie. Timmy was worried his legs didn’t have enough circulation to carry him but thank god they didn’t let him down and in two long strides, he was standing face to face with Armie.

Fucking finally.

“Hello, Armie.” Timmy waved, his fingers wiggling in greeting. He tried to tame his frizzy curls but the rain and wind he walked in made his attempts futile. Armie looked confused that Timmy knew his name, which mortified him completely but he chuckled through the horror. Timmy reasoned with himself that maybe Armie didn’t expect him to remember who he was, which was adorable, really. Timmy tried to play it cool and pointed at the name tag on Armie’s apron and the blonde smiled sheepishly, forming an “oh” of understanding.

“Hey, what would you like?”

Pure professionalism. Sexy. 

Timmy crossed his arms over his chest, tapping a long index finger against his chin as if he still needed a moment to decide what he wanted. As if he hadn’t prepared and rehearsed for half an hour for _this very moment._

“There’s just so many things I want...” Timmy let his voice trail, sighing dramatically, looking unrelentingly into captivating blue eyes, making it clear that he meant more than ice cream. Armie looked a bit confused, a little uncomfortable. Timmy knew he needed to change up his approach.

“Umm,” Timmy hummed, biting his lower lip as if he was suddenly stressed about making a decision. He pouted his bottom lip, his two top teeth gently sinking into tender skin.

The change worked and Armie seemed to take pity on him, his expression softened.

“I can come back? If you need a few minutes.” Armie was already taking a few steps away, so Timmy shook his head quickly, a few rebellious curls falling into his eyes. He swiped at them carelessly, grinning when he noticed Armie followed the curls and it was the best half second of his life, having Armie watch him that closely.

“Do you have a favorite?” Timmy spit out quickly, changing the script that he had perfected on the walk over to the parlor. He needed to reel Armie back in and this seemed to work as the blonde moved back towards Timmy.

“Yeah, but it’s a little embarrassing,” Armie shrugged, another crooked smile on his face, and suddenly Timmy had no idea how all the ice cream wasn’t melting because he sure as hell was.

“Oh really? Tell me.” Timmy was genuinely intrigued, leaning over the glass counter to get closer. His anticipation was obvious. “I promise I won't tell anyone.”

Armie smiled, which was incredible to witness in such close proximity, and Timmy smiled along with him. How was this guy even real?

“Well…” Armie leaned in, his elbows on the counter now too. He paused for a moment to look at his coworker who was still getting her ear chatted off by Saoirse (arms flailing enthusiastically while she told a very high energy story) then turned to look at Timmy intensely in the eyes.

“Don’t laugh but... it’s Birthday Cake. You know, with all the sprinkles?” Armie shrugged. Timmy could see the blush form over Armie’s cheeks, embarrassed by his confession. He stood there in silence, jaw hanging open, his eyes flitting all over Armie’s handsome features. Timmy couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

He _really was in fucking love._

-

“So did they have to custom order your outfit?” Saoirse asked, suddenly appearing next to Timmy and successfully ruining the moment that Timmy was sure him and Armie were having. Armie pulled his head back, another confused expression on his face. Timmy was starting to think that maybe he just always looked like that, curious and thoughtful -- like a puppy.

“Well, I assume they didn’t just _happen_ to have pink and white vertical striped slacks in your size laying around when you got hired? Unless you already owned a pair?” Saoirse laughed as she spooned heaps of pink ice cream in her mouth. She swallowed and then grinned wider, pink teeth peeking through her hot pink lips.

Armie actually laughed and it was a low, infectious rumble that felt like it vibrated Timmy’s entire body, down to the very core. He wanted to jump for joy, listen to it forever, play it out like his favorite song, but he also kind of wanted to punch Saoirse in the boob because _he_ should be the one making Armie laugh like that, not her. 

“Well, my favorite color is pink,” Armie dead panned, grinning. Saoirse squealed at the joke, nearly dropping her spoon. Timmy wanted to join in but suddenly felt out of place. Normally, he was boisterous and forward, but now he felt unsure of himself. Saoirse seemed to pick up on the vibes Timmy was sending out and decided to take over. She threw her arm over his shoulders, her held tilting to the side while she looked over Armie inquisitively.

“So, you’re the new guy, yeah? You know we have French together, right?”

“Oh, we do?” Armie asked, his own head tilting to the side as if a different angle would make them recognizable. “I thought you looked familiar.” 

Timmy looked at Armie but he was looking at Saoirse. His heart could have shattered right then and there, all over the black and white checkered floor.

“Yeah, _we do_ ,” Timmy smacked his lips together with annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t notice but a slight twitch of a smile hit the corners of Armie’s lips.

“You know, I’ve suddenly lost my sweet tooth,” Timmy mumbled, turning his head in hopes that only Saoirse would hear (but also not because he wanted Armie to feel bad about it.) “Let’s get  
out of here, go to Starbucks or something.”  
They started towards the exit, Timmy immediately pulling his hood over his curls, Saoirse still wrapped over his shoulders. 

Armie watched them till they opened the door, the song ending just as the doorbell jingled overhead and suddenly he called out, “See you in class tomorrow, Timothée!”

Timmy halted, looking over his shoulder at Armie’s smug grin. He wanted to scream with delight but instead just flipped him off, an innocent but proud smile on his lips as Saoirse dragged him through the door, both of them in a fit of giggles.


	3. kill me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii! here's another reposted chapter!  
> there should only be one, MAYBE TWO, more reposts until we're all caught up and on to the "new" stuff!  
> thanks for everyone that's rereading and 'hello i love you' to the new readers.

The night after the ice cream parlor, Timmy came into his peach-scented lotion covered hand three times while thinking about Armie; how Armie’s voice sounded when he said _Timothée_ , perfect pronunciation, the way Armie’s lips had curved when he smiled at him, how his own cock practically vibrated when Armie laughed.

“You smell like cheap fruit,” Saoirse scrunched her nose that morning at school when they greeted with their usual hug.

“That’s homophobic, Sersh.”

“Fuck off.” They both laughed and Timmy admitted that peaches were now his favorite fruit. She didn’t understand why but after a snort from Timmy she held up her hands, dropping her granola bar in the process.

“Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

-

Timmy had never been more excited for French class. He was the first to arrive, tucking his legs under his body, leaning over his desk as he watched the student file in. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Where was he?

“That’s my seat.”

Timmy rolled his eyes, shooing away the short blonde girl that usually sat in the desk he had decided to hijack. “Not today, Sarah.”

She called him an asshole to which he smiled sweetly, before rolling his eyes once she turned away to find another seat. This was going to be his desk for as long as possible because it was the desk next to Armie’s.

_Armie._

The door swung open and there he was, walking with determination to the center of the classroom. His blue eyes landed on Timmy, who felt the air leave his lungs and his cock, which had been resting peacefully between his legs, suddenly twitched with life. God, he was so fucking gorgeous. How? _How?_ Timmy’s leg bounced in anticipation and he waved casually, brushing his curls back from his face as Armie shrugged his backpack off and took a seat.

“That’s Sarah’s seat.” Armie looked around the room, Timmy’s smile faltered. He had expected a warmer greeting than this, had hoped to at least hear Armie say his name again. Sarah must have heard Armie because she made a face from across the room, looking at Timmy with annoyance, especially since her ear was now being chatted off by Saoirse. Goddammit, Sarah.

“Yeah, she said we could trade for a while,” Timmy beamed, leaning in and lifting a shoulder to his chin in an innocent shrug. Armie breathed out a “huh” while he pulled out his notebook for class. There was a short silence before Armie spoke again.

“Did you seriously steal her desk just so you could sit by me?”

Timmy stared open mouthed until he decided to lean into it. He nodded shyly. “I just wanted to be next to you.”

Armie furrowed his eyebrows together, obvious in his disbelief over Timmy’s audacity. Timmy swallowed back his desire to defend his actions, he knew he looked as scorned as he felt, because how could he not?

“There’s no harm in that, right?”

Armie was silent for a moment, shuffling his things around, scribbling some notes on his paper because apparently the lecture had started without him even realizing. Eventually Armie turned to Timmy, who had been watching him closely the entire time. He smiled and Armie smiled back, but it was forced, unnatural, tight lipped with no teeth.

“Sure.”

-

”Yeah, that’s right. Take it, suck it. Choke on it..”

Timmy pulled his mouth off with a pop. He wiped at his lips aggressively, his eyes rolling with annoyance when he looked up.

“Seriously, can you shut the fuck up? I can’t enjoy this if I know that you’re the person this dick is attached to.”

Ansel didn’t seem bothered by Timmy’s comment, nodding with his mouth hanging open like a slob. Timmy grimaced but closed his eyes tight, picturing Armie’s smug grin from yesterday while he guided Ansel’s cock back to his tongue, desperate to get what had happened in French class out of his mind. It didn’t take long before Ansel was grunting, trying to pull Timmy’s hair in hopes that he’d swallow (but Timmy doesn’t swallow, thank you very much.) He slapped Ansel’s hands away, hard, pushing his hips to shove him back as he came all over the grass instead.

  
“Fuck, be careful. You almost jizzed on my sweater.” Timmy snatched up his cardigan that he had been using to kneel on (he didn’t need grass stains, again) and tied it around his shoulders. He looked Ansel up and down, then shrugged.

“Well, later.”

-

TC: kill me

SR: so fucking dramatic, timmy.

TC: i sucked ansel’s dick again because im depressed

SR: wtf meet me @ the big tree

-

The big tree wasn’t actually a tree, just a very large bush in front of an apartment building across the street from school. The bush was wide and tall enough to keep them covered while they smoked joints, cigarettes, and occasionally skipped a class (or two.)

“I don’t want to hear it, okay,” Timmy grumbled as he heard Saoirse’s boots walk up. He was sprawled out over concrete steps, his legs bent at the knee while he pinched a half-smoked joint between his thumb and index finger. His shirt was untucked, his tie loose around his collar, curls everywhere. He looked (and felt) like a sad, abandoned puppy which Saoirse said made her ‘want to laugh and cry simultaneously.’

Instead she snatched the joint from him, taking it between her lips with a sigh.

“Why the fuck does it have to be _Ansel_?” Saoirse inhaled and held the smoke in her lungs as she spoke. Timmy groaned and threw his arm over his eyes in shame.

“Wait, is that why you disappeared after class?” She exhaled, one hand on her hip while the other brandished the joint like a weapon. Timmy never ditched her unless he was hooking up but even then, he usually sent a courtesy ‘i’m fucking’ text. She could tell something was wrong, so she kicked his boot with her own to get him to fess up.

Timmy groaned again. “Armie hates me.”

“I thought we came to the conclusion that he ‘definitely wants you to suck his dick’ because of how he fucked with you at the ice cream parlor?”  
Timmy shook his head. “He’s so hard to read. I have this feeling in my gut and it’s like - fuck,” Timmy was too high to make sense of his own emotions and thoughts. He sat up, pressed his fists into his stomach. Was this what having butterflies felt like because they fucking sucked and he hated it. He explained briefly what happened in class and how Sarah had fucking sold him out about taking her seat and how it seemed to annoy Armie, how he seemed annoyed _by him_ in particular. It made him feel sick to his stomach and Timmy wasn’t used to caring about what people thought, not like this.

“Oooooh I get it now. You like, _like him_ , like him, don’t you? Like you want to suck his dick… romantically.”

Timmy glared hard but his lips curled into a soft smile. Saoirse flicked the joint to the pavement and crushed it with her boot. “Tea, you don’t even know him. He could be the dullest dud on the east coast. He’s just pretty.”

“I know but -”

She gave him a pointed look and he decided to drop it. Timmy had way too much fun hooking up and having flings with pretty people, he doubted having a legitimate crush on Armie would equate to anything substantial. Armie was just _new_ and that was exciting and Timmy figured once he got what he wanted from him, he’d grow just as bored as always and move along to the next.

At least, he hoped.

-

Over the next two weeks, Timmy distanced himself from Armie. Which was annoyingly easy because Armie was the busiest fucking teenager in existence, taking classes and extracurriculars that Timmy hadn’t even been aware existed at their school. Out of pettiness, he initially kept Sarah’s desk but Armie was always so focused in class, and he only spoke when he participated (who fucking participates?) and after the fourth day of saying “hi” and only getting a small nod in return, Timmy decided to let Sarah have her dumb desk back.

Timmy could play hard to get, too. (Saoirse laughed in his face when he’d said that to her earlier that morning but, whatever.)

-

“I’m not going in there.” Timmy crossed his arms over his chest, pulling the hood of his coat tighter around his face, pushing curls over his eyes.

“Why not?” Pauline looked at him as if he was crazy.

  
“I don’t like ice cream.” They were at Armie’s parlor and even though he couldn’t see the handsome giant through the window, Timmy didn’t want to take any risks.

“That’s a lie but okay, weirdo.” Pauline knew when her brother was being purposefully avoidant so she didn’t press the matter. She said she’d be right back and the familiar jingle of the door bell annoyed him as did the sudden assault of warm, confectionery goodness that filled his nostrils. Timmy paced idly as he waited, looking at his phone to text Saoirse who was sick at home, knowing Pauline would be a while since the line was ridiculous and nearly out the door.

TC: how dare u get sick on a friday night  
TC: are u alive?  
TC: serssshhhhh  
TC: u the worst when ur sick

“Fuck my life,” Timmy sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and turning on his heel to head back towards the parlor after wandering further down the block than he intended. He gasped when he nearly fell backward, having bumped into someone. A very large someone. A very large, gorgeous someone.

Timmy looked up. “Fuck my life,” he muttered again. Armie smiled, a breath of a laugh escaping from his chest upon their impact. Neither of them stepped back very far and their bodies were still very close, too close, not close enough. Suddenly Timmy didn’t mind the assaulting scent of warmth and confection like he had minutes ago only now it was mixed with something else.

Armie.

“Nice to see you too.”

Timmy looked at Armie with exasperation and slight embarrassment. Armie was bundled up in a hoodie, jean jacket layered over it, and was still in his pink striped uniform pants. He must have just gotten off work.

“We see each other every day in French, Armie.”

“Do we? You moved back to your old seat so I figured you’d had enough of seeing me.”

Timmy looked even more lost than he had seconds ago and Armie just chuckled along as if he wasn’t the most confusing fucking person on earth. Timmy’s jaw hung open, he refused to not come out on top from this unexpected encounter but for the moment he was shook to the core.

“Yeah, well, I missed Saoirse so I changed back,” Timmy shrugged. Armie nodded along though it wasn’t clear whether he believed him or not. They stood in silence, staring at each other, hands in their pockets as people parted to walk around them. (Yeah, they were being _those assholes_ who just stand in the middle of the sidewalk on a busy New York street.)

“Did you just get off work -”  
“What are you up to -”

They laughed awkwardly when they both started to speak at the same time. Armie nodded his head, deciding to answer first.

“I’m definitely not wearing these as a fashion statement.” He bent his knee up to reference his pants. Timmy shrugged.

“They’re cute though.”

It was dark out and very cold, but Timmy was pretty sure that Armie’s cheeks hadn’t been that shade of pink half a second ago. his ego fluttered and he smirked, his shoulders pushing back as he held his chin up higher with pride at his minor accomplishment.

“So are you headed somewhere or -?” Armie changed the subject quickly but Timmy took that as another win, assuming he’d flattered him into awkwardness.

“My sister wanted ice cream,” Timmy nodded towards the parlor. Armie looked over his shoulder, his brows pinched together when he came back around. Timmy could tell he wanted to ask why he hadn’t wanted ice cream as well but was glad when he didn't.

“Alright, well, I better get going. I promised I’d go to that haunted house thing at the school.”  
Armie sighed, a sheepish smile on his face. Timmy thought it was sweet how excited he look over a dumb haunted house. He wondered if Armie was one of those weirdos that loved Halloween, passing out candy, dressing up, bobbing for apples... (Timmy only liked the "dress up in slutty outfits and party till you puke" part of Halloween but he had a feeling that Armie was the "carve pumpkins and roast the seeds" type Halloween lover. Weird. Adorable.)

“Oh? Yeah, cool,” Timmy moved to step away, but hesitated because he didn’t want this conversation to end before it had even started. Armie noticed and shifted from one leg to the next.

“Do you want to come?” Armie looked over his shoulder back at the parlor again. Timmy knew he was looking for Pauline. “Your sister too, of course.”

Timmy grinned, mimicking the way that Armie smiled at him the day he’d stolen Sarah’s desk. He fucking hated haunted houses, he hated being scared, and definitely didn’t like the thought of going to the school after hours, it just felt wrong - but Armie was looking at him expectantly, those big, beautiful, painfully blue eyes were impossible to deny and really, how bad could it be?  
“Sure.”


	4. what a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the haunted house :)   
> this is the last full repost. all the rest will be “new” content.   
> fiction!!

Pauline almost sold him out.

“Timmy, you don’t even like --”

 Armie looked over at Pauline curiously, head tilted, but Timmy had his back to him, thank fucking god, because he made the biggest _don’t you fucking dare_ face at his sister, his eyes wide and lips tight as he mouthed _no, no, no, shut up, no, no, no._ His sister got the hint, smirking, her gaze flickering from Armie then back to him.

Pauline shifted, taking a careful lick of the pistachio ice cream cone in her hand. “You don’t even like _school functions._ ”

Timmy rolled his eyes so hard but was grateful that she didn’t say he was a chicken shit. He knew he was going to get the third degree about this at home but it didn’t matter because Armie wanted to hang out with him so this was a fucking win no matter what the consequences. Even if the consequences were issing his pants out of fright. Worth it.

“Yeah but Armie here was just telling me that the money from tickets goes towards helping remodel the school library and also that he helped organize it, so I want to be supportive.”

Pauline looked at Timmy as if he had grown a second head, which was fair considering he was spewing complete bullshit, but damn, couldn't she at least try to look like she believed him so that he could (hopefully, maybe) get to climb the actual golden skinned god next to him? Fuck.

 “Oh, and we all know how much you care about the library getting remodeled.”

Timmy scoffed, clicking his tongue, and glared at his sister. She laughed, unbothered, taking another slow lick of her ice cream. What kind of sister would she be if she didn’t make his life miserable from time to time?

“Didn’t you say you were going to meet up with a friend?” Timmy asked pointedly, his voice full of obvious spite. He had planned on inviting her along but clearly she was not going to be any fucking help, so she had to go. He had no qualms over ditching his sister if it upped his chances of getting laid. She’d get over it. Pauline got the hint and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, sure. I love you, too.” She pulled out her phone, probably to contact a friend or Uber, and Timmy looked over his shoulder towards Armie whose expression was impossible to read, like always. He shot him an apologetic smile.

Despite the enjoyment of torturing Timmy, Pauline was still his big sister so before she left, she looked up at Armie seriously, taking a few steps his way, brandishing a pointed finger. “Take care of my little brother, got it?”

 Armie chuckled, nodding his head. He slapped Timmy on the shoulder, which made Timmy die a little inside because a pat on the shoulder —that’s what you do with friends, pals, little bros not potential fuck buddies and he lost his balance almost immediately. He staggered forward and Armie winced, trying to steady him. Pauline laughed.

“Yeah, keep it up. Clearly he’s in great hands.”

Timmy was red from embarrassment but he tried to recover. He half stumbled, half leaned into his sister, giving her a kiss on the cheek reluctantly.

“Okay, great, thanks. Bye, Pauline. Love youuuu.” Timmy shooed her away and watched her walk a few steps before turning back to Armie. He brushed a hand through his curls, taking a deep breath. _Finally,_ they were alone and he was floating somewhere between the moods of _fuck me now_ and _fuck my life_ because how the hell was he going to pull this off?

\--

 “Fuck! What the fuck? Oh my god. Fuck you!”

Timmy’s plan to play it cool in the haunted house was not working out. At all. Which at first, was devastating. This was not how he wanted Armie to find out what he sounded like when he was all... loud and worked up.

However, once he realized that if he jumped a little too far to the right then Armie would instinctively catch him by the waist, or if he yelled a little too loudly then Armie would throw his head back while wearing a smile that could literally save fucking lives, and the best was when every time Timmy tried to put his hands over his eyes, Armie would lean over to pull them off and maybe he was just being hopeful, but their fingers definitely stayed linked for a few extra seconds each time it happened.

Timmy’s face was a bright shade of pink, probably a close match to Armie’s pants, but luckily the dark red glow of the room they were standing in made it impossible to tell. Armie was still laughing because Timmy had walked (okay, scurried) directly into a patch of fake spider webs and he was still trying to get them out of his curls. Armie reached over, his fingers grazing along Timmy’s cheekbone as he pulled a long strand of spider web away from his temple. Armie was giving him the most delicious smirk that he had ever seen in his life, and his entire body blushed when he was teased with that ungodly deep voice.

“So much for making this haunted house your ‘bitch.’”

Timmy scrunched his nose, his face hot from the proximity of Armie’s giant hand and the physical exertion of running around the haunt.

“Shut up.”

Timmy would have regretted all his shit-talking during their walk over to the school but he figured maybe Armie found it cute he was trying to impress him and he could totally live with making a fool of himself if that were the case. Armie laughed harder and Timmy joined in, both of their faces were bright and crinkled with amusement. He wanted to stand there in that room forever, with Armie hovered over him, his fingers dipping in and out of his curls in a feeble attempt to get the fake synthetic webs out, and sure, he could do without the fake blood on the walls and the irritating scream of students as they filed around them but Armie was so fucking perfect. How was this the most romantic shit he’d ever experienced and it was taking place at his high school's lame-ass haunted house?

“Come on, we’re almost done. Think you can handle it?” Armie was clearly challenging him. Timmy gave him a playful shove, stepping forward as he pushed so that their bodies were close together when Armie rebounded.

 “Think you can handle it?” Timmy repeated, mocking Armie’s voice, his chin tilted upwards as he wore his best shit-eating grin.

Armie looked on at him for a moment, his face making that same unreadable expression that was as equally hot as it was frustrating. Timmy raised his eyebrows, waiting for Armie to give him something, anything. It felt like eternity but Timmy knew it was probably only like, maybe, three seconds. They just looked at each other. Stared. Eyes flitting side to side as they gazed, him upwards, Armie downwards. Timmy felt his cock stir between his thighs because if that was what he looked like above him, he now wondered what he looked like underneath him.

 Armie finally broke, a soft chuckle escaping his upturned lips and he slapped Timmy on the back like he had early. _Friend, pal, little bro._ Timmy clenched his jaw and smiled through the disappointment as he followed Armie into the final room of the haunted house.

 --

“Oh.” Timmy made the faintest sound. He stopped walking immediately. Armie hesitated, looking over at him.

“You okay?” His voice was full of concern and Timmy wanted to melt but was too distracted by the absolute fear pulsing through his body.

 The final room was set to look like the creepy little girl’s room from _The Exorcist,_ which had terrified him since he was a kid. He cringed through the strobe lights, walking slowly towards Armie. He nodded his head but he knew his apprehension was obvious. Armie seemed to pick up on it and moved his body closer, their jackets making a soft shuffle sound as they barely touched.

The room was narrow and the only way to the exit was to pass the bed that clearly had someone in it. (Or did it? There was definitely lumps under the stained and dingy blankets covering it.) Timmy shuffled, hoping to go by unnoticed but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. His eyes were squeezed shut and he felt Armie’s hand against his lower back, moving alongside him. Timmy was muttering to himself _fuck, fuck, fuck_ as he shifted and just when he thought he was in the clear, he felt a hand against his back and he turned around, face to face with someone dressed like the demon possessed girl from the movie. He let out a scream he’d probably regret for the rest of his life and cowered into Armie’s chest, hiding his face into the crook of his neck. Armie huffed from the sudden impact, then chuckled nervously as he rubbed Timmy’s back. There was a shuffle of movement and then suddenly --

 “Oh, hey Armie!” A girl’s voice, a familiar one. Timmy pulled back and turned around. He grimaced at the surprisingly impressive special effects makeup but clearly, it was Sarah from French class. He grimaced even harder now.

“Sarah, hey! You look great.” Armie was as polite as ever. Maybe Timmy was being dramatic but the way Sarah swayed on her feet made it look like she was blushing, maybe even trying to flirt.

“Oh, really? Thanks, Armie,” She smiled. Timmy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Was she really trying to flirt with Armie while dressed like whateverthefuck her name was from the movie. What a monster.

“Totally, Sarah. You nailed the whole _horrifying and gross_ thing perfectly,” Timmy interjected. Even with the contacts in her eyes, Timmy could tell Sarah looked offended. He was too proud of his remark to sense that Armie had tensed behind him, and he reached out to pull Armie closer to the exit but suddenly the older male's hands were in his pockets. Timmy turned in question but it seemed Sarah wasn’t quite done with Armie yet, either.

“We’re doing a contest for whoever is scariest so if you can vote for me on Monday, I’d appreciate it.”

Timmy wanted to fucking gag. Armie nodded.

“Yeah! I mean, you definitely got Tim.”

Tim. Oh my god, did he just really call him that? Timmy forgot that Sarah was there ruining his life for a moment and beamed at Armie. Sarah snorted with laughter when she looked over at Timmy.

“Yeah. I was supposed to throw some fake vomit your way too but I thought I’d cut you a break, after what happened in fourth grade.”

Timmy deeply considered if anyone would notice if real blood ended up on the walls instead.

 “Fake vomit? Awesome,” Armie spoke up, a little too loud, a little too obvious.

Timmy was borderline homicidal. (How fucking dare she mention what happened in fourth grade.) Sarah held a cup in her hand, tilting it forward to show the concocted liquid that was green, just like the demon vomit in the movie. It smelled like green apple.

“Gross,” Timmy shrugged, unimpressed. Sarah laughed again, suddenly shifting towards Timmy to tease him, shoving the cup in his face and tilting it as if she was going to poor it on him. Timmy gave her a dirty look and before he could tell her to stop, the cup tilted the whole way over and spilled down his jeans and onto his boots.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry,” Sarah apologized immediately, fumbling to catch the cup before it hit the ground. She missed and it splattered even more as it hit the ground.

“What the fuck, Sarah?” Timmy spat angrily.

“I didn’t mean to --”

“Yes, you did,” Timmy swiped at his jeans, which were sticky and god, now he would have to scrub his boots later. Armie looked uncomfortable but tried to defuse the situation.

 “I’m sure it was an accident, Timmy. We can go get you cleaned up, alright?”

Timmy looked over, still pissed. He smelled his hand and groaned with irritation. He hated green apple. Sarah looked worried and apologetic but Timmy was sure that it was all just a ploy. She’d been rude to him ever since he had temporarily took her seat in french class. Clearly, she wasn’t over it, she knew what she was doing.

“Whatever,” Timmy sighed then linked his arm with Armie’s, pulling him towards the exit.

There was a group of people hovered around once they were out, all excited and adrenaline pumped after the haunt. It was loud and there was a lot of movement so Timmy tried to cling to Armie for as long as he could but after a moment, he slipped out of his grasp.

“I’ll go find you some napkins or something,” Armie offered. Timmy shook his head, shrugging a cool shoulder as if he hadn’t just been enraged.

“It’s fine. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Armie raised his eyebrow, clearly in disbelief. “You sure? It seemed like a big deal a minute ago.”

A few people started to scream nearby. Timmy turned to look, trying to figure out what was going on, but didn’t process the commotion since it was dark out on the quad. He looked back at Armie, whose eyes were still on him.

“I know, I’m sorry. She’s just been rude to me ever since I tried to sit by you in French.”

Armie seemed uncomfortable again and Timmy felt the same pain of rejection that he had when he’d been ignored by the older male for days on end after the whole desk thing. He felt defensive, as if his own intentions were on display before them, so in an attempt at self-preservation he added, “she’s just trying to get back at me because she wants to suck your dick.”

There was so much commotion going on in the background but Armie didn’t seem to notice, his face dead serious and locked on Timmy, who wanted to turn around but Armie was giving him a look he hadn’t seen before. Was he pissed? Annoyed? Offended? He opened his mouth to recover but all at once, a painful, ear splitting sound surrounded him. Even Armie jumped when someone wearing a mask thrusted one of those fake chainsaws between them, cackling as they revved the machine up and down, waving it this way and that towards both of them, but mostly Timmy.

Timmy screamed so loud his knees gave in. His body did a weird thing where he tried to fold in on himself, in an attempt to cower to the floor but his feet were also trying to run and he lost his balance as he stumbled backwards. The person followed, chasing him down at an eerie slow-fast pace.

 “Fuck off, asshole!” Timmy tried to yell over the sound but his adrenaline was pumping from the jump scare, which did nothing to help his balance. He tried to look over at Armie who was moving towards him, mouthing something, looking concerned. Timmy continued to back away, unable to understand whatever Armie was saying.

Chainsaw Asshole waved the machine towards him once more and just before Timmy fell backwards, banging his head against the stone table on the way down, he had the thought that whoever the fuck was wearing that costume was going to be in so much shit once he found out who it was.


End file.
